Thursday October 17 2013

David Maisel.[i]

11:24 a.m. I wake up on the couch in my dad's guest room. The plaque and picture frame with all his Air Force medals is hanging on the wall next to a picture of golf paraphernalia and an eagle. His service in the Air Force reminds me when I was a little boy. After he retired I remember spending a lot of time at the post office on base where he worked. I would sift through the junk mail out of boredom or play NBA Jam on Sega in the break room.

In the kitchen making breakfast alongside Jennifer. She makes herself pancakes with globs of butter. I cook Scrambled Eggs with Toast, Grapefruit, a Pancake with Nutella, and Orange Juice. We talk a little bit about school. I learn that she can draw and paint really well. I commission her to make me a picture of something and mail it.

Out in the driveway my dad sips on a Sam's Cola and chows down on hamburgers and hotdogs. We have a brief one-on-one conversation. It's important for me to talk with my dad about anything. There's no telling how long he'll have to live, not that he isn't healthy but nobody is promised tomorrow. I just want to stay as close as I can to him. It's hard when there's always people around, like Patty and Jennifer. I realize he's got his own agenda trying to provide for this new family. It's an honorable thing. He's developed a good amount of wealth and he just wants to give.

I leave the Carolinian plains behind – a three and a half hour trip ahead. For nourishment, a Peanut Butter Sandwich, Salt n Vinegar Chips, and a Coffee. Just listening to music until I arrive in Virginia Beach.

At the house. Of course there's a pile of dishes in and around the sink and nobody took it upon themselves to run the dishwasher, which would be full. I take care of everything in about twenty minutes. I don't worry about these kinds of chores that I shouldn't be responsible for cause I get reimbursed in other ways.

At the Rec Center participating in adult basketball. Within the first few minutes of the first game I block a pass with my right hand and the ball jams my thumb pretty bad. I could've avoided this injury if I held my palms out facing my opponent like a defender is supposed to do. Despite the non-working thumb I manage to shoot three shots in a row. My teammate mimics the sound of an airplane as the ball swishes into the hoop. The thumb is getting worse but I continue on until shortly after 8 when people start to leave. I was supposed to have practice with Josiah and Calum afterwards but I realize there's no way I can even grip a pic to play bass without it hurting.

Back home. Keeping ice on my thumb. Making dinner.

Spaghetti with Tomato Basil Sauce, Onions, and Peppers. Kale and Romaine Lettuce Salad with Carrots and Cucumbers.

Breaking Bad.

Taking it easy. Using Tiger Balm on the injured thumb. Then, a splint.

Sleep 4 a.m.

[i] David Maisel.

No comments: